Koalas growl and bellow grunts in the night, some quite close. It turns the hair of the England-based contingent. ‘There’s no way that an animal that makes that noise isn’t a threat to life! Those cuddly, dopey furballs must turn into werewolves or worse in the dark I’m not staying here.’
We’re not. Day two on the Great Ocean Road dawns cold and bright after the previous day’s rain. Some frozen Pink and Grey Galahs and two koalas are still in the trees by the loo block. Commonplace now.
At the (not quite) Twelve Apostles, we squeeze into the carpark and manage a snap without a tourist in it. Wikipedia tells us there were never twelve, only nine – and two have fallen down. The sign says you can’t see them all because of the coast shape. ‘How does Australia get away with such a con?!’ It does! – for tourism’s sake, and we’re here. (Australia; 3, UK; Nil, I’ll call that). You have to admit it sounds a bit more majestic that the Seven Dwarves or seven stumps of rock.
Then onwards. We have a heap of road to go down before the Adelaide area and an imagined camp in a winery under the stars. There’s a general curiosity to visit the Barossa Valley. Aside from its significance as a battle in the Peninsula War, Barossa is also the name of the training area behind Sandhurst where we all got wet, cold, confused, ran stupid distances with logs and crawled through puddles to take up inconsequential fire positions during the formative stages of our military life. A shudder of dread at the name runs through us all.
We search for campsites there. The Wikicamps app – one of our essential planning tools – throws us up the Tindo Nudist Camp in the appropriately-named Cockatoo Valley. Fascination draws us into the detail. ‘Even in the height of winter members still congregate in the club house in front of the wood fire’. That is, I suppose, so they can be seen. You can’t make this stuff up!
We pause overnight in the centre of Hamilton at the Caravan Park. Functional, spotless, non-nudist, and welcoming.
A family in the adjacent cabin stay while their house is repaired after a massive hailstorm in Casterton some 60 kilometers away. Disasters are not just limited to Queensland, clearly.
A hard planning session that evening, as the end of the capital city route draws near. There are still thousands of kilometers on rough roads to cover. How many days at our current progress will it take to get back to Brisbane if the Simpson is closed? Flights to the UK are a firm end point. Fourteen or 15, via the Plenty Highway to the north if the Queensland part is open. It’s still too early to be certain of the final route.
Then it’s out of Hamilton on long straight roads through the GAFA. (For a translation of this 4LA, please seek advice from an appropriate, consenting, Australian adult.) Actually, we haven’t nearly hit that yet. This is just vast, dry, beautiful, rolling sheep and cattle country with occasional towns.
Tomorrow will be ANZAC day. Apart from the biscuits, of which we have already consumed many, its a reminder of the work that Mates4Mates does to help those and their families after their service. Combat Stress in the UK does similar work. You’ve helped us raise over $14,000 now. Thats terrific! But we haven’t stopped yet. So please continue to share the story and our gofundme link so that we can continue to support their work.
Loving the photos! Especially the wide panoramic shots. It really is the only way to show the vaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaastness of this part of the country!
I did warn James about dropbears!!!!
Guy et al, Surprised to hear that you are still motoring! I have told Carole that you are all turret down in a pub in Anglesea and that AI allows your fauxtography. I know this because had you actually driven through the vast, dry, beautiful, rolling sheep and cattle country with occasional towns, you would have reminisced about the Generally Affable Farming Acreage and its suitability for tank manoeuvres.
We are looking forward to your Desert Fox encounters and how your attention wanders from the marvel of what you are doing to the status of Plan B. Should Plan B eventuate, you will be able to watch the ‘freedom bird’ fly overhead as you continue to dig yourselves out of the sand.
FN J&C
Apologies for not picking up on your accurate assessment of our mythical progress! You can fool some of the people all the time…
Brilliant translation of the GAFA – will use that to get out of difficult circumstances! And still motoring? Only just; Guy’s vehicle is shaking all its old plastic bits to bits! Guy, however, says his plastic bits are working quite well…